


A Helping Hand

by Evil Crutchie (PawPunk)



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: (although you only see jacks side so), (except yeah yes homo), (its more the sentiment), (lowkey but eh whatever), Aged-Up Character(s), Bottom Jack, Canon Disabled Character, Chronic Pain, Comeplay, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Groping, Hand Jobs, Let Crutchie Say Fuck, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, No Homo, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Pre-Relationship, Protective Jack, Size Kink, Spit As Lube, Sub Jack, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and probably plumbing too, but who cares man, historically inaccurate underwear, jack is whipped, platonically jerking your buddy off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 17:43:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawPunk/pseuds/Evil%20Crutchie
Summary: Crutchie is having a bad leg day, and Jack knows a way to make him feel better. (AKA, Jack gives his bro a 100% PLATONIC handjob and DEFINITELY doesn't enjoy it /s)





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: smut (duh), less than enthusiastic (but still definitely there) consent at the very beginning, Crutchie is in pain for a while, just read the tags ok?

It had been a dark, miserable, very wet day. Jack had hardly been able to draw for fear that the windows of his office would blow in, showering him with broken glass. Then, he had been forced to walk home in the rain. By the time he finally got back to the apartment he shared with his best friend, he was soaking wet and chilled to the bone.

Jack quickly stopped pitying himself when he heard soft, pained whimpers coming from the only bedroom. He sloughed off his sopping coat and dashed in.

“Crutchie, are you alright?” he asked, fumbling for a match and lighting a small lamp. Crutchie was lying on his back, still dressed in his work clothes, and his crutch was lying on the floor where he had dropped it.

“What do you think?” he griped. As Jack approached, Crutchie tried to sit up, but quickly fell back onto the bed with a gasp of pain. 

“Okay, okay, take it easy,” Jack murmured, sitting down at the foot of the bed. He tried to lift Crutchie’s leg into his lap, but his friend yelped in pain and he had to lower it down onto the bed. “What happened?”

“Its the storm. That, and the other clerk wanted me to run all his errands for him. How was your day?”

“That doesn’t matter, Crutchie. You’re hurt.” Jack brushed Crutchie’s sweat- soaked hair out of his eyes, mentally cursing Crutchie’s stupid co- worker. What kind of a bastard would make sweet, gentle Crutchie, of all people, go fetch for him? He made a note to intimidate the guy the next time he saw him. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Don’t touch my leg,” Crutchie said. Jack jerked his hand back. “I’m sorry, it’s just making it worse for now.”

Jack stood up. “I’m gettin’ you medicine.”

“No, Jack. Please.” Crutchie struggled to sit up again as Jack shrugged on his coat again. “We don’t have the money for me to be depending on medicine. Besides, you’ll drown out there.” As if to prove his point, thunder boomed. 

Perfect, self- sacrificing Crutchie. Definitely too self- sacrificing for his own good. “I can’t let you get hurt like this, Crutch. I care about you.”

“Then stay.” Jack’s heart leapt involuntarily as he turned to face Crutchie. He batted his eyes at Jack. “Don’t leave me alone like this.” Automatically, Jack dropped his coat to the floor. 

“‘Course not.” 

“Thanks,” Crutchie said, managing a weak grin. Jack’s body flooded with a familiar warm feeling as he sat down next to the bed. G-d, Crutchie had him whipped. He’d do anything for that smile, even if he knew deep down he was hurting him worse. Crutchie reached for his hand, threading their fingers together, and Jack felt a pang of longing. He was so, so close to really being with Crutchie in that way- and yet so far.

Thunder boomed again, and lightning lit up the tiny room. Crutchie hissed a curse, and Jack felt guilty immediately. He shouldn’t be thinking of such things when his friend was hurt.

“Hey Jack,” Crutchie said, voice thick with tears. “My leg says it’s gonna rain.” He laughed humorlessly, barely stifling a sob of pain. Jack bit his lip, wishing he had any way at all to help alleviate his suffering.

Then, like a bolt of lightning cracking outside, an idea hit Jack.

“Hey Crutchie, I know a way to make your leg feel better,” he said immediately.

“What?” Crutchie asked. He craned his neck to look at Jack. “What is it?”

Jack bit his lip. Sure, the idea might work, but it was still a very bad one. “Never mind. I shouldn’t’a said anything.”

“C’mon, at least tell me what you were thinkin’,” Crutchie whined. He pouted at Jack again, and Jack forced himself to speak, even as the color rose in his cheeks.

“Racer told me that a guy told him that he read that- um-” he coughed awkwardly. “That if you- if you touch yourself when you’s injured it cancels out the hurt.”

For a moment Crutchie was silent. Jack swallowed, waiting for any response. 

“Well then.” Crutchie coughed. “I guess I oughta try it, if there’s a chance it’ll help.” 

Jack stood hastily. “I’ll be in the kitchen, then.”

“Right. I’ll uh, call you when I’m done,” Crutchie stammered, face even redder than Jack’s. Jack grabbed his coat and hurried out of the room. He busied himself with hanging up his clothes to dry. He thought about a new cartoon for the paper, and definitely _not_ what Crutchie might be doing to himself right now.

A voice forced Jack back to the real world. He turned, listening. “Jack?” Crutchie called from the bedroom._ Fuck_. Jack swallowed, walking up to the closed door. 

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“Can you come in?” 

_FUCK_. “Sure.” Jack cracked the door, telling himself he would NOT stare at Crutchie’s cock, before entering the room. 

His best friend, nothing more (nothing less, either, he reminded himself) was still sprawled out on the bed. His shirt was untucked, and even like this, pale with pain and gasping for breath, he was ethereal. 

“I need help,” Crutchie admitted miserably. Jack stood still for a moment before realizing what Crutchie needed him to do. His mouth went dry, and the blood that had previously flooded his face went south for the winter.

“Alright, what do you need me to do?” he asked as calmly as he could, approaching the bed.

“Everything. I’m so sorry.” Crutchie covered his face in shame. “Please don’t feel like you gotta, I’m sure the storm will be over soon.”

“No! I mean, I don’t mind.” Jack knelt beside the bed, face level with Crutchie’s hips. “_Anything_ to make you feel better. Can you move your good leg at all?”

With Jack’s help, Crutchie slid his good leg off the bed. Jack swallowed, eyes lingering on Crutchie’s impressive bulge. He didn’t look nearly as turned on as Jack, though he loathed to admit it, was. Jack would have to fix that. Careful not to touch his bad leg, Jack palmed the space between Crutchie's thighs. Crutchie groaned softly.

“Was that a good groan, or a ‘stop touching me right now’ groan?” Jack asked. 

“Its good,” Crutchie said shortly. With that encouragement, Jack went back to rubbing Crutchie through his pants. He relished every soft sound his friend made, hoping that his leg hurt less, hoping he could keep touching him.

“Is it working?” Jack whispered, his voice coming out a little more sultry than he’d intended. 

“Yeah,” Crutchie panted. “Keep going.” Jack obeyed, feeling Crutchie’s cock stiffen under his hand. He started to press his hand down harder, grinding into the bulge with the heel of his hand. Crutchie gasped, bucking his hips into Jack’s hand. As soon as he moved, the sound of pleasure turned into a hiss of pain.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have moved,” he swore. His hard- on pressed awkwardly against the front of his pants. Jack gripped it and stroked him with one hand. Crutchie placed a hand on his hip, pressing down.

“Jack, fuck, you’re making it hard to stay still,” he panted. His hips twitched again and he gasped, half from pleasure and half from pain.

“Do you need me to take it off?” Jack asked, feeling Crutchie's length jerk under his hand.

“G-d, yes,” Crutchie growled. Jack pulled down Crutchie’s pants and underwear as quickly as he could. Not wanting to move away from Crutchie, he licked his palm before wrapping his hand around his erection and stroking him from head to base. The bed squeaked slightly as Crutchie threw his head back, barely muffling a moan with his hand.

Jack pressed his thighs together. His own cock was getting uncomfortably hard, and it was impossible to ignore how much he loved helping Crutchie in this way. He licked his other hand and brought it to palm at Crutchie’s balls. He whimpered, the sound ending in a yell of pleasure as Jack brushed his thumb over his head.

“Jack, don’t stop!” he pleaded. The sound went right to Jack’s cock, twisting his insides with arousal. His mouth watered. The other man was bucking slightly into his hands, showing no sign of pain. He was doing good. Jack was doing so, so good for Crutchie, making him feel so good! He ground his cock on the floor, barely getting any friction. But he couldn’t take his hands off Crutchie’s cock, no sir, he was a good, good boy.

Precum dripped down Crutchie’s cock and onto Jack’s hands. Without thinking, he sat up and licked the salty white trail. “Fuck, Jackie, _good boy_,” Crutchie moaned. Jack whimpered with pleasure, grinding against the bed frame. He licked Crutchie again, this time dragging his tongue from the base of his shaft all the way to the head. He savored the taste of his sweat, the heat of his arousal against his lips, the alien feeling of Crutchie's thick cock in his hand. Kissing Crutchie’s leaking head, Jack moved one hand down to rub himself through the thin fabric of his underwear.

“Jackie, I’m gonna come,” Crutchie gasped. Jack didn’t care. No, actually, he _wanted_ Crutchie to come on his mouth, so he could taste how good a job he was doing. “I’m gonna-” Crutchie tried weakly to push Jack’s head away from his cock, but the movement quickly turned into pushing him down as Jack took Crutchie’s head in his mouth. 

Jack moaned, eyelashes fluttering as he drooled around the sudden intrusion. He dragged his tongue along Crutchie’s slit, hoping desperately for more praise. Crutchie moaned nonsensically, tugging Jack’s hair. With one last thrust, he covered Jack’s mouth with cum. Jack swallowed, lapping at the cum that had dripped back onto Crutchie’s cock and licking his lips with obvious pleasure. 

“Good boy,” Crutchie purred, weakly petting Jack’s head. Jack sat back on his heels, forcing himself to take his hand out of his pants. 

“Does that feel better?” he asked, barely avoiding adding “sir” to the end of the sentence.

“Yeah. Tell Racer he was right.” Crutchie reached down, tucking his cock back into his pants. His hand rested on his stomach as he gasped for breath, grinning. Jack had done well, Jack was a good boy. He licked his lips again.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands,” Jack said quickly. He turned to hide his erection before rushing to the bathroom and locking himself in.

Jack did not wash his hands. He licked them clean before pulling out his cock and stroking himself with quick, desperate hands. In his mind, Crutchie was still calling him a good boy, still holding his head down so he could pleasure himself better. 

“Yes sir!” Jack shouted as he came, arching his back. He leaned on the sink, gasping for breath as he came down. Once his head was clearer, he ran the tap and washed his hands and face before wiping up any evidence of what he’d done.

By the time Jack left the bathroom, the rain had stopped. A thin beam of light slipped through the window, and the air felt lighter and warmer. He tiptoed into the bedroom.

Crutchie was half asleep, curled up on the bed they shared for money reasons. Although, right then, nobody would have been able to tell by the way Jack helped Crutchie into his pajamas and cuddled with him. In fact, the way they fell asleep in each others arms was quite romantic indeed.


End file.
